The Snowman ( PDFDrive )

Their backup was in position.
Harry briefed them quickly. He didn’t want to see any uniforms until they were summoned, except
perhaps if they heard shots or shouting.
‘Put it on silent,’ Katrine said after he had rung off.
He smiled briefly, did as she said and stole a glance at her. Thought about her face when the freezer
door fell open. But now her face revealed no fear or tension, just concentration. He put the phone in
his jacket pocket and heard it clunk against his revolver.
They got out of the car, crossed the road and opened the gate. The wet shingle sucked greedily at
their shoes. Harry kept his eyes on the large window, watching for shadows and any movement
towards the white wall.
Then they were standing on the doorstep. Katrine glanced at Harry, who nodded. She rang the bell.
A deep, hesitant ding-dong sounded from inside.
They waited. No footsteps. No shadows against the wavy glass of the oblong window beside the
front door.
Harry moved forward and placed his ear against the glass, a simple and surprisingly effective way
of monitoring a house. But he could hear nothing, not even the TV. He took three paces back,
grabbed the eaves that protruded over the front steps, held on to the guttering with both hands and
pulled himself up until he was high enough to see the whole of the living room through the window.
On the floor sat a figure, legs crossed, with its back to him, wearing a grey coat. A pair of enormous
headphones encircled the cranium like a black halo. A cable stretched from the headphones to the
TV.
‘He can’t hear us because he’s got headphones on,’ Harry said, dropping down in time to see
Katrine grip the door handle. The rubber seal around the frame released the door with a sucking
noise.
‘Seems we’re welcome,’ Katrine said in a soft voice and entered.
Caught unawares and quietly cursing, Harry strode in after her. Katrine was already by the livingroom
door, and opened it. She stood there until Harry came alongside. She stepped back, banged
into a pedestal where a vase teetered perilously until it decided to stay upright.
There were at least six metres between them and the person still sitting with his back to them.
On the screen a baby was trying to walk while holding the index fingers of a smiling woman. The
blue light of the DVD player button shone under the TV. Harry experienced a moment of déjà vu, a
sense that a tragedy was going to repeat itself. Exactly like this: silence, home movie of happy times
with the family, the contrast between then and now, the tragedy that has already been played out
and just needs a conclusion.
Katrine pointed, but he had already seen it.
The gun was lying behind the figure, between a half-finished puzzle and a Game Boy, and looked
like a toy. A Glock 21, Harry guessed, feeling queasy as his body geared up and more adrenalin
entered his bloodstream.